Page 22 of Mistress of Bones

Azul woke to the early songs of birds. After meeting her personal needs, she rushed down to the same cozy dining room they had used for supper.

Bathed in the morning light, it appeared twice as big as it had under candlelight.

A few trays had been placed in the middle of the table, and to her relief, the only one occupying a seat was Nereida.

Fresh bread, boiled eggs, sausage, jam, butter, fruit. No porridge, no honey, no fried cake. Ah, well.

Grabbing a seat opposite Nereida, Azul chose her morsels. “Will you accompany me?”

“Where you are going, I don’t need to accompany you.”

“What will you do, then? Will you visit your brother?”

In the ensuing silence, Azul glanced over her shoulder at the open door and swallowed a half-gnawed piece of bread and jam. Badly chosen seat, badly chosen question.

“He’s still upstairs,” Nereida told her.

Enjul? Sergado? The latter, she assumed, for she had seen a few candles’ worth of light pouring from his window across the patio when she had woken in the middle of the night. As for Enjul…

Their strange encounter last night felt like a dream. There had been no mention of foulness, maladies, and sisters. It had felt… cozy. Strange. Like coarse fabric on the verge of turning malleable by the familiarity of use.

“You could ask the servants,” said Nereida.

Azul shook her head. “I can curb my curiosity if it means not awakening theirs.”

A snort. “Because they aren’t curious already,” Nereida murmured before eating half an egg.

“’Tis true,” Azul admitted. “But I’ll allow their imaginations some freedom.” She gulped down some of the minty drink offered with the food and considered one of the spoons. Solid, expensive. Pretty. It could fetch some coin.

A few coins landed by her plate.

“You might need those,” Nereida said. “Don’t worry, there are more.”

With one less concern, Azul stood with resolve, retrieved the coins, and made her way outside.

The sky was turning the beautiful azure of summer, not a cloud in sight, carrying with it the promise of a heated day.

But for now, the night’s chill lingered in the air.

The street spread on either side of Azul, sleepy and empty, which made the man leaning against the opposite building all the more conspicuous.

She hadn’t been stopped from leaving the house; and why should she when she was earning a shadow?

Azul approached the man, a smile on her face.

If Enjul insisted on having her followed, she might as well find a use for her follower.

Her brother’s words came to mind: Better to see the vermin than hear it scurrying .

“Excuse me, sirese,” she greeted him. “Are you here for the house or my person?”

The man tipped his hat respectfully. No ostentatious feathers caressed the wide brim, no signs of riches in the dirt clinging stubbornly to its black fabric.

He looked to be around his late twenties, with dark hair gathered at the back of his neck and a jaw that hadn’t met a razor in a few days. He flashed a smile at her perusal.

“You must be a local,” she guessed, “so you might as well lead the way to the ossuary and save me the time of asking others for directions.”

It wasn’t as if she could lose the man in a city she didn’t know or as if Enjul were unaware of her plans. The thought worried her. Getting out of the house unaccompanied had been easy, shadow or not. Had Enjul changed the rules of their game without her realizing it?

With another quick show of his teeth, the man dislodged himself from the wall and led the way down the street.

The buildings were taller than she was used to; the bridges threatened to cave under or above them.

It didn’t take long for the streets to lose their relative quiet as they widened and narrowed at whim, the pounding of hooves and rattling of carts echoing from wall to wall.

The people of Cienpuentes were waking up and apparently enjoyed shouting at both each other and the morning light.

A rider galloped past, making no allowance for what or who stood in their way.

The excitement was palpable, and Azul drank it in.

In the distance, she thought she heard the cluck of chickens.

“Are those chickens on the roofs?”

Her shadow did not answer, so she asked instead, “Did the emissary send you to watch over me, or was it the ambassador?”

He nodded, almost imperceptibly.

“Is Cienpuentes always this busy?”

A shrug of the shoulders.

“I hope they’re paying you well. I can’t afford a tip.”

A disgruntled harrumph.

“And your name,” Azul insisted, “may I know it?”

Unsurprised by the lack of answer, Azul smiled for him. “Then pick one and give it to me, so that when I find your employer, I may praise your work and arrange an increase in your wages.”

A low, rumbling laugh came from her companion, and while no name was forthcoming, Azul did not mind it. There was courage to be found in walking through a strange place with someone by her side, even if he was little more communicative than a shadow.

Her attention was drawn back to the river and the buildings rising to cage it, old and sharp at the same time.

Two statues adorned the ends of one overhead passageway, stone horses reared on opposite sides of someone’s entrance, and all the flowers perched in their iron grids outside the windows brightened the dull color of gray stone, weathered brick, and white bird droppings.

Azul savored all these sights, all the sounds, and even all the smells.

Soon she’d share them with Isadora, and then she’d be sent back to Valanje.

Who knew when she’d see all these things again?

Things so Sancian and yet so strange. Monteverde was a good-sized city, but it had been allowed to expand.

No such thing could be said for Cienpuentes.

Life had been crammed in here, dropped like dice on drunken, late-night games.

Isadora would like it here, Azul decided, content with the thought that although they might have to part ways again, at least her sister would be left with plenty of things to enjoy.

Having somewhat satisfied her heart, Azul’s mind returned to the task at hand.

The number of bones kept at Cienpuentes’s ossuary must be enormous.

The city was huge, its dead inhabitants too many to count.

The sheer size of the collection of bones defied her imagination.

She prayed that those in charge had kept some semblance of order and records instead of dumping them into piles as a cook might with chicken bones after the broth was done.

The ossuary itself was a boring square structure with an elevated entrance and a narrow set of steps. Windows peppered the outside, high enough to be out of reach for a man on his tiptoes, never mind someone of Azul’s height.

All this, she observed over the increased pounding in her pulse. Isadora, kept in such a place. Cold and drab and leeched of all joy. It broke her heart to think about it.

She bid her shadowing guard to wait outside, then took the steps and entered the building.

Azul had an inkling Enjul assumed she needed the whole body to bring someone back to life, concluding that a single visit in plain daylight wouldn’t be enough, and nothing would be lost if he allowed her that much.

He had only seen her use her gift on Zenjiel.

He had no way of knowing she could simply pocket a piece of a bone and bring the person back later unless Nereida had told him, and Nereida wouldn’t risk their agreement.

She and Nereida had escaped Enjul before, and Nereida must know Cienpuentes well.

Together, they would get rid of Azul’s shadow and escape Enjul, as they had done before.

And after Isadora was back, she’d return to face his rage, as she had promised.

Unfortunately, it took no time to realize the ossuary kept no bones. It was a shell of a building, full of cramped rooms and faded rugs and ugly fern-green walls.

Azul turned to the man assigned to deal with her inquiries. “This is the ossuary?”

A suffering sigh escaped him. “Yes, sirese. Again, this is where your loved ones’ remains are dealt with.”

If that was true, how come the building didn’t feel any different from her brother’s house? Her fingers ran across the rim of her hat. “Are you sure?”

“Yes, sirese.”

“So, why won’t you allow me to see them?”

“As I explained, for that you will have to go to the Temple and make an appointment with the dean. There is a procedure for these things. We are not an exhibition you can enter at whim to satisfy your morbidness. A deceased’s remains aren’t something to be gawked at.”

“But the bones are here? Where?” Far underneath, she suspected. There was no other explanation. With how many bones the ossuary must contain, she would’ve been aware of them if they were nearby.

“This is the entrance, yes.”

“It doesn’t seem big enough,” she pressed.

The man would not relax. “I am certain. Between us and the Temple, we host from the poorest of citizens to the late queen.”

“The Temple is another ossuary?”

“Go and ask them,” the man snapped.

Azul studied her surroundings once more, stuffy, green, and smelling of old age. “Thank you, I think I will.”

Once outside, she recalled what she had seen of Cienpuentes on her way in, and where she guessed herself to be—on the wrong side of town.

She grimaced in annoyance. She could still taste the old dried herbs and stale air from the ossuary.

The sun was now in full display—so much wasted time.

Ignoring her following shadow, she guessed her way.

She had taken a handful of steps when she spied a woman on a horse in conversation with someone else.

“Good morning, sirese,” Azul greeted her. “May I give you coin for a ride?”

The conversation halted as the rider inspected Azul curiously. “Where do you wish to go?”

“The Temple.”

The woman rubbed her chin, her eyes distant for a few moments. “I will do it, countryface,” she finally answered, offering a hand.

Azul took it and hoisted herself behind her.

The woman smelled of horses and freshly baked bread, reminding Azul of Agunción.

She held on to the woman’s waist and jolted when the woman clicked at her mount and urged it on.

With a last look behind, Azul tipped her hat toward her guard.

She felt no guilt and no illusions at leaving him behind—she was sure the man knew her destination, just as Enjul must’ve known she’d find no easy access to her sister’s bones.

As they made their way through the crowded city, Azul closed her eyes and tried to find the link she shared with the beings she brought back, and found that the mouse had done in its instinct what Azul had hoped deep in her heart.

To no one’s surprise, the Emissary of the Lord Death was no longer in her brother’s house but busy traversing the streets, the mouse in pursuit. Virel Enjul meant to know where she went, but didn’t wish for her to know where he visited.

She opened her eyes, and the sight of Enjul’s quickly dirtying heels disappeared. Azul tightened her grip on the woman and hoped the emissary didn’t notice the mouse, and that the Temple proved to be more helpful than the ossuary.

Azul might have some freedom while Enjul conducted his own business, but the reprieve wouldn’t last long.